After about half a minute you realize something. Flora's breasts aren't stopping. Their still producing milk at an alarming rate, which soon begins to fill the room. Having already reached knee height on you, you decide that a quick exit is in order, so you race to the door, and attempt to open it, but it won't open. You're stuck! As the milk level rises above your chest, you take one last gulp of air, certain that it'll be your last. The level of Flora's breast milk continues to rise, your head disappearing below the surface. You hold your breath for a long time, your lungs burning as their starved for oxygen, and just when you think you can't stand it any longer, you suddenly get an idea! It's a stupid, cartoonish idea, and one that'll probably never work, but it's the only one your oxygen starved brain can come up with. Swimming through the murky fluid, guiding yourself by feel, you make your way to the bathroom. A quick press of the flush valve on the toilet and, against all logic and reason, the fluid begins to drain, swiftly flowing into the toilet and down into the sewer. The level of the milk drops rapidly. Before long it's dropped enough for you to stick your head above the surface, drawing in great gasping lungfuls of fresh air as the breast milk continues being pulled into the toilet, eventually stopping around two feet deep as it drops below the level of the bowel. It's still a terrible mess, but at least you're alive.
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